1.18 THE SMUGGLER. 



After a short consultation, then, he who had spoken before, 

 called to old Ramley, saying, "We'll soon bring a warrant. 

 Then look to yourself;" and, thus speaking, he rode off with 

 his party. Old Ramley only laughed, however, and turned 

 back into the house, where he made the party merry at the 

 expense of the dragoons. All the men who had been out 

 upon the expedition were now seated at the table, dividing the 

 beef and bread amongst them, and taking hearty draughts 

 from the tankard. Not the least zealous in this occupation 

 was Edward Ramley, who seemed to consider the deep gash 

 upon his brow as a mere scratch not worth talking about. He 

 laughed and jested with the rest; and when they had de- 

 molished all that the board displayed, he turned to his father, 

 saying, not in the most reverent tone, "Come, old fellow, 

 after bringing our venture home safe, I think you ought to 

 send round the true stuff: we've had beer enough. Let's have 

 some of the Dutchman." 



" That you shall, Neddy, my boy," answered the farmer, 

 " only I wish you had shot that rascal you fired at. How- 

 ever, one can't always have a steady aim, especially with a 

 fidgetty brute like that you ride;" and away he went to bring 

 the hollands, which soon circulated very freely amongst the 

 party, producing, in its course, various degrees of mirth and 

 joviality, which speedily deviated into song. Some of the 

 ditties that were sung were good, and some of them very bad ; 

 but almost all were coarse, and the one that was least so was 

 the following: 



SONG. 



"It's wonderful, it's wonderful, is famous London town, 

 With its alleys 

 And its valleys, 

 And its houses up and down; 



But I would give fair London to^n, its court, and all its people, 

 For the little town of Biddenden, with the moon above the steeple. 



"It's wonderful, it's wonderful, to see what pretty faces 

 In London streets 

 A person meets 

 In very funny places; 



But I wouldn't give for all the eyes in London town one sees, 

 A pair, that by the moonlight, looks out beneath the trees. 



